In the end, her own storm went against her
leaving her thrashing
eyes burning white hot
A flickering fire,but faster
moving with desperation
her eyes alight, she thrashed
as the hurricane in her mind
screeched, screamed and blared
a single thought
I must make art.

Her mind, too vast
Her horizons extending to no end
her thoughts, her words
her dreams, her fears
at the slightest stir
became a storm

She dared to attempt
to capture her storm
to the blank canvas
that even at the end
remained blank

the most she could do
was try to capture the colours
in the right shade
but she couldn't let her mind expand into the paper
for her soul had taken over
but her heart kept to itself
saving the best for last

But her burning goal
remained the same

Her mind- a raging Hurricane
Her soul- an everlasting darkness
Her Heart- a flickering flame
But in her glass body
she held it in
till she fell in shards

together they leapt and thrashed
while she perfected the colours of her storm
only to repeat them
as she failed to express
the explicitness of what she contained

In the end, it was her own storm that went against her
in the end, her soul was too vast to be contained
In the end, her her heart was too hot to keep contained

In the end, her soul was too dark to be contained
in the glass body

she ran to the rain
and let out her soul
and let out her heart
and let out her mind
and laughed wickedly

the storm worsened
the trees burned
and the light didn't shine,
for a long time

but she laughed and laughed
till her shards fell
at her
nonexistent feet.

In the end
her art remained
a blank canvas
next to
a perfect palette.